Hate That I Love Him
by Outta-Ak'sHead
Summary: "Hate is such a strong word to use; but it's the perfect word to define my thoughts and feelings towards Draco Malfoy" D/H. Just for fun/cuteness.


**Hey guys, I was bored and while I was lying on my bed daydreaming, I just suddenly got hit by an inspiration or not an inspiration but just dialogues. So I decided to write a cute short Drarry drabble. [Draco and Harry together, is just really amusing and humorous to me, so I decided to give it a try.] This is set after the battle [meaning 7****th**** year] so Draco and Harry don't exactly hate each other that much but they are still not fond of each other.**

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Hate. Hate is such a strong word to use; but it's the perfect word to define my thoughts and feelings towards Draco Malfoy. Speaking of the devil itself, here he is, sitting about two feet away from me, muttering mocking words that are undoubtedly meant for me. You're probably wondering why I'm sitting next to him? Well, I never asked for this, you know. I was late for Transfiguration, and Ron and Hermione didn't even bother to save a seat for me (too busy cuddling with each other), that Professor McGonagall placed made me take my seat, next to the only place which was empty and next to the one who I have the most hugest grudge on; that's right, Draco Malfoy.

You'd think he or I would protest-well, we did… but McGonagall is a pretty harsh woman at times so we didn't want to go through that path. So here I am, slumped on the bench, waiting for this class to end.

"Now class, take your books out and write an essay on 'How to turn creatures into water goblets'" McGonagall announced as she took her seat at her desk. The class had just started and I was yearning for it to end; so badly. I heard pages being turned as everyone started to tackle their work. I sighed in defeat and, grouchily, painfully took out my book and parchment, trying to ignore _him_ next to me. I dipped the tip of my quill in the ink when I felt someone's gaze on me. I looked up to see Draco, wearing a disapproving look.

"You know Potter; you're not the only one suffering through this. So quit whining like the pathetic baby that you are" He sneered, narrowing his eyes at me and then went back to writing the assignment. My jaw tightened and from the corner of my eye, I could see Hermione giving me a weak smile and Ron mouthing out the words 'Sorry, Mate'. I was too pissed to respond; I hated them, right now; I hated this class; and most of all, I hated Draco Malfoy; every bit of him.

I hate the fact that he's vain. He feels like he's better compared to others; I huffed at that thought.

I hate that he feels that he can gets whatever he wants. Just because he's rich and spoilt, doesn't mean the privilege gives him the upper hand; I rolled my eyes and took a quick glance at him, resting his head on his hand as he wrote.

I hate that he thinks that blood-status is everything. For example that time when he joined Umbridge's so-called…

_"The Inquisitorial Squad... A select group of students who are supportive of the Ministry of Magic, hand-picked by Professor Umbridge. Anyway, members of the Inquisitorial Squad do have the power to dock points... So, Granger, I'll have five from you for being rude about our new headmistress...Macmillan, five for contradicting me... Five because I don't like you, Potter... Weasley, your shirt's untucked, so I'll have another five for that... Oh yeah, I forgot, you're a Mudblood, Granger, so ten for that..."_

He only mocks muggle-borns by calling them 'mudbloods', just to feel more powerful and superior; What. A. Git. My grip on the quill tightened as I started to feel a little rage enter into my system.

I hate that he has no, what so ever respect towards others. He used to mock Lupin and detest almost every teacher from Gryffindor (actually, from every house). The only teacher he ever got used to, was Snape; Snape, of all people. I can't say I'm surprised though.

I hate the way he always makes people's business his business. Always poking his nose where it shouldn't be and only end up making it worse. That's mission accomplished for him if I'm involved; I softly rub my temple with my free hand, thinking about all the scenarios he did that and left, ending with that stupid smirk on his face.

I hate his infamous smirk or his obnoxious snort; you could say, it's like his signature gesture. Just then he happened to leer, up and down at me.

"What is it, Potter?" drawled Malfoy lazily, "Wand in your pocket?" Through his blonde locks was an unmistakable smirk as he turned his attention back to his work. Merlin, that smirk is so agitating. Before I could have stopped myself, I had snapped my quill into two, making ink to ooze all over my hand.

_Oh great, this is not exactly what I need right now_, I rolled my eyes, putting the quill down and looking for something to clean up this mess. I was about to duck my head under the table, to look through my bag when I felt something cold grip my wrist. I looked up to see Draco, a lot closer than he was before opening my palm, not breaking eye contact with me. I was too startled to react as his grey eyes bored into mine. I felt something soft and smooth run through my fingertips; finally, breaking from the eye contact, I saw an emerald cloth placed on my palm and Draco was back in his seat, continuing to write. I didn't know what just happened but I felt my heart speed up a bit; I snapped back to reality, dabbing the napkin where the ink had spilt.

I didn't even dare to glance at him; I just quickly cleaned up my mess and settled down properly. Luckily there was no commotion made, otherwise that would have been very awkward. I let out a breath before resuming back to work, only to find out that, that was the last quill I had. I groaned in frustration and dropped my head in my hands. A few slight soft brushes against my cheeks, made me look up. The first thing I saw was an amber-brownish feather, gently brushing against my fingertips now, attached to pale fingers, twinned with it. I followed the hand all the way up to the host to see, Draco's hand stretched towards me, but his gaze was towards McGonagall.

"Try not to break this one, Potter" he sighed and handed me the quill, before resuming his work. I took the quill, hesitantly and just observed it. I played with it between my fingers and couldn't help to wonder.

I hate that even though he does the most stupid and annoying things ever, he somehow makes me feel a certain warmth, within. Something made me to take one more glance at him; as if it would affect me, in some way. My eyes slowly moved towards to the side, where he sat. His smoky grey eyes were set on the parchment while his long fingers with intertwined with the quill. His head was leaning a bit towards the side, making his blonde locks dangle along with it. The sun's small rays hit his pale skin, making him almost glow while he wore a small yet genuine smile; not his smirk, something so much better. I felt my face soften at this boy who was sitting next to me; the boy that I hated.

I hate.

I hate that I love him. So much.

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**Yay! I'm done. Thanks to my dahling, Reem (Love you bebe) I had to finish this cause school is starting day after and I still haven't done my French Essay. So it may be hard to update soon, so ya.**

**You're probably wondering how suddenly the love occurred. It's not sudden; 'where there are feelings, there is also denial and anger.' Maybe a slight OOC; I don't know. **

**I hope you liked it and thought it was pretty cute, in a way.**

**Reviews are nice. Criticism is appreciated as well.**


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